By Theodore Durst
I take bad photos everywhere I go.
I cannot be considered a good photographer in any rational sense of the word. After much practice, I've learned to keep my thumb out of the family snapshots, but beyond that I am lost.
Some of my best photos were taken using a Kodak disc camera while at sea; small boats on large expanses of ocean. These photos featured a distinct lack of detail, no control over lighting, only my camera rising and falling with the waves. They have sentimental value, but they are rather crappy photos.
"I cannot be considered a good photographer in any rational sense of the word."
For years, the camera enthusiasts in my family offered advice. Initially they would take my feeble efforts as the products of inexperience. I could take photography classes or just keep shooting until "I got it." The classes never made a difference and my pictures never improved much. When it became obvious that this was the case, they suggested that I get a point-and-shoot camera.
Now, I like the idea of point-and-shoot. Taking the guesswork out of the process can produce good photos, especially if the photographer is not particularly skilled. The problem was that my photos now looked uniformly bad. As a result, both the pro cameras and the automated point-and-shoot cameras sat in my drawer. What good is having the smartest, most professional gear if it sits on your shelf?
I knew I took bad photos, and that knowledge may have made the difference. I sent my spent film canisters to be developed out of a sense of duty. Perhaps this roll of film would be different. I had an image of the guys working at the photo lab holding my photos up and saying, "Look at this joker, I wonder what else he got for Christmas."
When digital photography became affordable, my interest remerged. I knew how to work with digital images; maybe this new technology would give me enough control over the process. It was less costly, since there was no film development (which also spared me my paranoid fantasies). Early digital cameras were too pricey for me, so I decided to wait. The quality and features got much better as the prices plummeted. Yet I could never quite justify buying a serious digital camera.
Eventually, I bought a small camera for my Sony Ericsson T68i. The Communicam MCA 20 was a walnut-sized hunk of plastic containing a CCD camera. Taking pictures is at once marvelous and irritating. The camera plugs into the bottom of the phone. Using it requires a sort of periscope maneuver, turning the phone upside down and clicking the picture using the phone's keyboard. Anything beyond that requires returning the phone to its proper orientation. The on-screen controls are limited but functional.
The camera is much more capable than the screen and can capture images in a number of formats. Given the limitations of the screen, I found myself taking pictures at 640x480 pixel resolution and uploading them to my computer, as you can see in Figure A.
FIGURE A
I call this "Brown van meets Verizon." (click for larger image)
Aside from the clumsiness of the camera-phone gymnastics, it was a good place to begin. However, fishing the camera out of my bag became a hassle, and I ended up leaving it at home most of the time.
When my Palm VII died, I bought a Zire 71 to replace it. While the Communicam was awkward to use, the camera in the Zire 71 is a joy. The designers at Palm hid it behind a removable metal back plate. To take a picture, one slides down the back plate and focuses using the screen. A shutter button is located at the bottom of the back plate, and is only available when the camera is open. When the camera is not in use the back plate acts as a protective lens-cover. For Palm's Zire 72, they dispense with the back plate, which I expect reduces the life of the lens (although this should make finding a PDA case much easier).
The resolution on the camera is about the same as that of the Communicam (.3 megapixels) and can take pictures at several resolutions (160x120, 320x240, and 640 x480). The "advanced" button reveals controls for contrast and white levels, allowing me to take pictures at night, as shown in Figure B.
FIGURE B
Here's a lovely photo of Ocean Parkway at night. (click for larger image)
There are even specialty settings for common lighting environments (fluorescent, indoors and sunlight), but it makes sense to use the automatic setting unless you are sure of what you will be facing. Unlike the Communicam, on-the spot changes are a cinch, which enabled me to take the picture in Figure C.
FIGURE C
Here's a quick capture of busy city life. (click for larger image)
Flipping down the back plate continues to generate that gee-wiz factor, and attracts almost as much attention as my Palm keyboard. Fortunately, it is a quick process to open and close the camera. It's not the fanciest, but since my Zire 71 is always with me, I always have a digital camera.
The ability to shoot wherever I am is a huge advantage. My ability to take good pictures has not improved much, but I have become adept at taking quick pictures, especially on the street. The Zire 71 is quite impressive in low-light environments, even without a flash.
This has allowed me to shoot photos in the New York subways as shown in Figure D.
FIGURE D
One door opens and another closes. (click for larger image)
I can also take pictures on the street at night, as shown in Figure E.
FIGURE E
T.D. phone home. (click for larger image)
Given the low resolution of the photos, I never print them out. However, they are not bad for use on the Web. Some of them are even quite interesting, as you can see in Figure F.
FIGURE F
When you see something interesting, take a picture. (click for larger image)
I still take horrible pictures, I just take a whole lot more of them than I used to.
Theodore Durst is a Technical Editor for ZATZ Publishing.